


You Matter To Me

by writingonpostcards



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5661985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Hale fire, Derek takes a year off school before joining Lydia's cohort. Lydia just wants to see him smiling again.<br/><em>Even though his image as of late has shifted more to teen delinquent, Lydia knows better. She knows that underneath that façade is still the same Derek from before, who cares about school and who’s favourite hobby is reading and who knows the correct way to play monopoly.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Matter To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from Sara Bareilles gorgeous [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GU1gKmZYFVc).

Lydia recognises that it was horrible.

 

Personally, saying goodbye to her father wasn’t a big deal – a mere blip in an autumn weekend years ago – and that was just due to divorce.

 

So losing your entire family to a house fire? Yeah, Lydia gets that that’s horrible.

 

But she thinks the bigger shame is what happens after.

 

Derek’s always been smart. While he didn’t try and hide it behind his sporting prowess, it got masked nonetheless. Lydia’s observant though and Derek is one of her favourite subjects. So when he comes back to Beacon Hills High School after a year and a half off to join Lydia’ cohort, she can tell instantly that’s he’s changed.

 

It’s not the leather jacket he wears even during the hottest summer day – his father’s judging by the sleeve length – or even the way he doesn’t smile anymore. It’s his lack of verve. The lost spark behind his eyes. His lost care in class.

 

Lydia misses it.

 

And what does Lydia do when she misses something? Finds a way to replace it. Or in this case, fix it.

 

-

 

“You know,” Lydia begins, sitting down across from Derek, “if you wanted to do the ‘bad boy’ thing you should probably be hanging out with the smokers, not sitting in the library.”

 

“The smell of smoke doesn’t really _do it_ for me.” Derek doesn’t lift his eyes to her. It’s alright. Lydia hadn’t expected much more this early on in her efforts.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

She opens her bag and pulls out her chemistry textbook, beginning on her homework as Derek reads on unbothered.

 

They spend the remainder of lunch in silence between the dustiest stacks of the library, not a word spoken between them. Lydia keeps Derek in her peripherals and aside from the one glance of a mere two seconds he gives her towards the beginning of lunch, all he does is turn page after page.

 

The next day Lydia returns. She sits across from Derek, takes out her algebra book, and does her homework. Derek looks up and she meets his gaze, neither dropping until a student walks past their shelf and the moment is broken. She attempts to engage him in some kind of conversation, but all she receives in reply are sarcastic one-liners or glares.

 

They do that every day for a week.

 

Lydia wishes that ‘they’ was less ‘Lydia; and Derek’ and more ‘Lydia & Derek’ but she’s patient. She can wait. Someone like Derek is worth it.

 

-

 

After two weeks they have something... _settled._ Derek acknowledges Lydia in class and in the hallways, even though they’ve still not had a real conversation, despite Lydia’ best attempts. On a day Lydia comes in later than normal, Derek says “didn’t think you were coming”, then immediately ducks his head down to his book as if embarrassed.

 

It’s all the signal Lydia needs to try a new tactic.

 

The next week she skips the library on Monday, and Tuesday goes in but sits at one of the corner tables instead of venturing in to Derek’s regular stack.

 

On Thursday it pays off and Derek slumps himself into the chair across from Lydia only 8 minutes into their lunch period. He nods at her and she smiles sweetly. Victorious.

 

Derek is sans leather jacket today. Lydia prefers it this way, with more skin on show, and muscled arms flexing whenever Derek turns a page. She gets back to her work and berates herself lightly for getting distracted by Derek.

 

“Your answer to 7b is wrong.”

 

Lydia blinks at Derek, who’s frowning at her workbook.

 

“You can tell that from upside down?”

 

“I have done this coursework before.” It’s almost a tease, a hint of the old Derek spark.

 

Lydia smiles and pulls out the chair next to her, cocking her head at Derek.

 

He hesitates, eyes flicking between his open paperback and her workbook, but eventually he folds down a corner and switches to sit beside Lydia.

 

Lydia moves her chair closer to his almost without thinking. She can handle the proximity, she thinks, and if not, nothing bad is going to come by being distracted by the smell of Derek and the warmth coming off his body. Nothing but having to spend more time in the library.

 

By the end of the lunch period she’s completed the entire week’s homework and managed to get Derek to almost smile twice.

 

-

 

They still barely talk outside of Derek critiquing her work, and when they do it’s not conversation, it’s Lydia prompting, “I know you threw the answer to Mr Harris’ question”, “vitamin D is important for your health, you should try it”, “they’re saving a spot for you at the jock table” and “move over”. And Derek rebutting, “congratulations”, “already got my 10 minutes”, “great” and “I thought you had more friends than this”.

 

Lydia actually finds herself enjoying this thing that they have and her previous, selfish motive for engaging with Derek – some foolish, naïve notion of fixing something that was broken – is lost to the freedom she feels in his presence.

 

More often these days, Lydia prefers spending her free time studying beside Derek in the library than trading banter with her other friends. For some reason, it’s a lot easier to be herself when she’s around Derek. Maybe it’s because they’ve not had years of knowing each other already, and because of it, he doesn’t expect her to know or not know certain things, or to flirt or not flirt with certain guys, or to act of not act in certain ways.

 

Lydia slouches sometimes, chews the ends of her pens if she’s stuck on a problem, scratches at her nose if it’s itchy. And Derek doesn’t bat an eye, doesn’t make some joke about Lydia being a human after all, doesn’t ‘tease’ that maybe Lydia _is_ just the ditsy popular girl. At some point a jest isn’t so funny anymore.

 

The time spent away from her friends makes her both appreciate them more, and realise she’s actually capable of being without them for whole swathes of time.

 

Which she spends with Derek instead.

 

Derek who shares food with her that he sneaks into the library, who still sits beside her even when she’s studying for a subject he doesn’t take, who asked her (in his own way) if she was okay on the anniversary of her grandmother’s death when no one else even seemed to noticed Lydia wasn’t operating at 100% that day.

 

Maybe it’s conjecture to think it, but Lydia thinks they have achieved ‘Lydia & Derek’ now.

 

-

 

“I know what you’re trying to do, by the way.”

 

Lydia flicks her hair over her shoulder, looking away from her English essay.

 

“Which would be what, oh wise one?”

 

Derek puts on an intimidating face, but his momentary hesitation before talking tells Lydia that he’s not convinced that he does know what she’s doing.

 

He’d be wrong, anyway, if he had clocked onto it. After weeks of spending time in Derek’s company, all Lydia is trying to do is… spend more time in his company.

 

“Fix me.”

 

Derek’s gaze doesn’t waver from hers but she can tell by the slight raising of his eyebrows that he’s anxious over what he just said.

 

Lydia frowns at the asinine assumption. To cover up the sting that Derek doesn’t believe she’s here simply because she wants to be – even though Lydia is ashamed to admit that was her original intention – she argues.

 

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t fix people.”

 

Derek crosses his arms over his chest and stares at her, eyes roaming her face. Lydia waits in his judgement, trying not to give her feelings away. Eventually, Derek slumps back in his chair and loosens his arms slightly.

 

“Then why have you been talking to me every day?” It comes out exasperated and rushed, Derek’s voice wavering slightly, like it’s something Derek’s puzzled over for nights on end and can’t seem to un-mystify.

 

Lydia’s abdomen constricts suddenly and violently.

 

It’s never butterflies with her.

 

She puts her pen down and closes her work book, pushing it aside so she can lay her arms across the table toward Derek and lean toward him. She looks into the swirling mess of his eyes and sees something that she hasn’t seen in a long time.

 

Hope.

 

But it’s faint and flickering, at war with whatever new persona Derek has become since the fire. She stretches out a hand to touch his still crossed arms and when he doesn’t pull away, she tugs a little on his sleeve until he tentatively drops his arm to the table, letting Lydia curl her fingers around his palm until his earlier defensiveness has almost entirely melted away.

 

She starts softly, intently. “Have you considered that, maybe, I actually think you’re a pretty fascinating person to be around?”

 

Derek shifts a little, eyes flicking away from Lydia’s. She can feel the jump of his pulse through the veins of his hands and she smiles a little.

 

“I don’t accept that premise.” Derek’s eyes are fixed on the shelves behind her but his cheeks redden slightly.

 

Lydia leans forward even more.

 

“Okay. How about that we’re friends then.”

 

Derek looks back, confused. Lydia tilts her head to the side and waits for him to process.

 

Slowly, Derek sounds out the word.

 

“Friends. I didn’t realise.”

 

Lydia can’t help but smile at his easy acceptance of her declaration, even if it is rather sad at the same time, that he didn’t see their relationship for what it was. That he somehow got it in his mind to devalue himself in terms of a pawn for Lydia to achieve something. The thought process is depressing and so Lydia brushes it aside. They’re friends now. She can talk about it later if she wants.

 

“Oh, so hanging out together every lunch for the past several weeks hasn’t been enough of a giveaway has it?”

 

Derek pulls his hand away from hers finally but smiles in spite of himself, turning to try and hide it. Lydia sees.

 

“You’ve made your point, Lydia. We’re friends.”

 

“Good.”

 

-

 

5 weeks later and Lydia finds herself on a second hand couch in the small apartment Derek lives in. Her shoes are off and her legs are crossed under her as she and Derek share a bowl of M&Ms mixed with mini-marshmallows and watch the Shakespeare adaption they have to study for English off Derek’s laptop.

 

It’s only the fifth time Derek has invited her over. The first time was so subtle, she almost missed it, and when she realised her mistake in offhandedly turning down the offer she had to scramble to redeem herself.

 

Derek had laughed at her and Lydia pushed him playfully. Or tried to. He barely moved at all. And of course Derek then laughed even more. Lydia played at being embarrassed but really, she was floating on the way his eyes were sparkling. Just like they used to.

 

It was soberingly small and empty, which Derek glossed over when he gave her the grand tour. Combined kitchen/living/dining area. Combined bathroom/laundry. Bedroom. He at least had a large double-bed, a half-full bookshelf and a sturdy wooden table and chair set. Everything else looked like it was from thrift stores, even the fridge had scuff marks and half-torn off stickers over its surface.

 

So the second time Lydia came over, she came prepared.

 

“Are you moving in?” Derek asks when he opens the door, eyebrows climbing up his forehead.

 

“No.” Lydia smiles and thrusts two large canvas bags at him. “You are.”

 

Lydia grabs another two bags from the corridor and begins unloading them while Derek does nothing.

 

“Lydia I- I can’t accept all of this stuff.”

 

“Of course you can.”

 

“But,” In her peripherals she sees Derek spin around, looking at the overflowing bags on his hardwood floor, “this must have cost a fortune.”

 

“Nope. It’s all from our lake house.” Lydia continues pulling items out; tablecloths, a throw rug, and some pre-framed landscapes.

 

When she looks over her shoulder properly, Derek is standing gobsmacked and lost looking, holding a framed embroidery proclaiming ‘ _home sweet home’_. Lydia walks over and takes it gently from him when she notices how watery his eyes are.

 

“That one’s a bit tacky, sorry.” In an effort to appease and distract him she explains, “We’re selling the lake house. Mum’s giving away most of the stuff to charity and, well…”

 

Lydia trails off, gesturing whimsically at him. She watches Derek’s composure slowly return as he takes in a deep breath.

 

“Hey now.” The jab comes out too soft but Lydia rolls her eyes anyway and drags Derek over to help her choose which things he wants in his apartment.

 

The third time she comes over she doesn’t come inside, just knocks on Derek’s door and waits for him to answer so she can drive them to the movies to see the latest space themed blockbuster.

 

Lydia checks her watch to see if she’s early, but of course she’s perfectly on time. She hears pounding footsteps and Derek’s muffled voice. “Sorry! Sorry! Coming!”

 

“Take your time.”

 

The door is yanked open and Derek smiles at her, says, ‘hey, sorry, come in’ then dashes off again to put a shirt on. Lydia never knew he had a tattoo. Not that they were close before, so why would she. She wonders whether it’s something he got after the fire. She recognises it as a triskelion and assumes the symbol would have some meaning to Derek. He hardly seems the type to get a tattoo just because, even if his image as of late has shifted more to teen delinquent.

 

Lydia knows better though. She knows that underneath that façade is still the same Derek from before, who cares about school and who’s favourite hobby is reading and who knows the correct way to play monopoly.

 

Derek pays for their tickets and Lydia pays for the food and they sit quietly through the movie, leaving its dissection for the car trip home.

 

The fourth time Lydia came over was much like now. For study. Which somehow, without her entirely meaning it to, became over 4 hours of talking about everything _except_ history. They got caught in a black hole of YA book trailers and recipes for brownies in a mug (delicious but very messy and unevenly cooked due to Derek’s second hand microwave).

 

It’s strange, being in Derek’s apartment. It makes Lydia feels mature but also frighteningly young, aware in a way she isn’t at school that Derek is older than her by a few years. When Lydia thinks of how she never would have gotten this familiar with Derek had the fire not happened, she strays close to thinking horrible things like ‘I’m grateful’ or ‘at least it meant’ and she doesn’t want to devalue Derek’s experience like that.

 

Sometimes she can’t stop herself from thinking those things in Derek’s presence and it makes her gut churn in shame. Derek’s good at bringing her out of that though, whether through prompting her with a study question, handing her the reigns to his laptop, or even once starting a tickle fight.

 

As Lydia is reaching for another handful of marshmallows and M&M’s she accidently grabs Derek’s hand where it’s also in the bowl. She jerks her hand away and Derek does too, which unfortunately sends the food scattering all across the floor.

 

It’s like one of the movie moments where time slows down and you get to watch in horror at the perfect arc the food takes through the air before hitting the ground and spreading beyond the frame. For a second or two (six actually, Lydia counts) she stares at Derek in horror. Then she’s lowering herself to the floor and picking up all the bits of food she can see.

 

From above her, Derek makes a choked noise and when she looks up, she sees he’s pressing a fist to his mouth. Trying not to laugh.

 

She kneels and puts her hands on her hips and then Derek loses it. Lydia tries to maintain a stern expression – he is half the reason for this mess after all – but the sight of Derek doubled over with laughter, crinkles around his eyes, and that warm sound he’s making, all weaken her resolve very quickly.

 

She starts laughing, soft at first but growing louder, until she has to lie back on the floor and press her hands to her stomach because it starts to hurt. She feels her eyes watering and closes them to stop. When she opens them Derek is leaning over her, quiet now. He shakes his head at her when he notices her looking and offers her a hand up.

 

She takes it, her palm small inside his, and lets him pull her back onto the couch. She pushes her hair behind her ears and a few marshmallows fall out with the movement.

 

“Here, let me.” Derek reaches up and plucks out a few more, dropping them back into the bowl.

 

He takes his time checking her hair, running his fingers through it all and fluffing it a little. Lydia watches his chest rise and fall as he moves and breathes, simply enjoying being touched by him. When he pulls back she straightens up.

 

“All good.”

 

“I can’t believe that happened.”

 

“I know.” Derek agrees, beaming with repressed laughter. “Your expression was amazing.”

 

Lydia flicks her eyes down to his mouth, echoing the sentiment in her head. Derek’s smile is heart-warming and heart-melting all at once and it’s that, more than anything, that makes Lydia realise that ‘friends’ isn’t quite where she wants to be with Derek.

 

It’s not a shock. It’s not a revelation. It’s not even an epiphany. It’s like putting on her reading glasses at night. She was looking at it before, but now it’s just a little bit clearer.

 

She doesn’t act on it right away.

 

She and Derek are friends and she knows he doesn’t have many of those. She doesn’t want to take that relationship away from him.

 

On the other hand, Lydia thinks they’re mature enough to handle it if they were to date and something went awry.

 

She tosses and turns at night and has confusing, mixed up dreams with alternate version of the food bowl incident. They both end up on the floor cleaning and they meet in the middle and they kiss. Derek gets angry and kicks her out. It doesn’t spill at all and nothing happens.On and on and on.

 

In the end, even though Lydia is normally a supporter of affirmative action in relationships – all of her previous relationships were initiated by her – she decides in this particular case, the choice is Derek’s.

 

They sit together in the library every lunch, though sometimes only for half the period so Lydia can join her other friends in the cafeteria. She invites Derek to join them at least once a week but he always turns her down. She doesn’t push.

 

Lydia starts visiting Derek on the weekend, bringing along her school work and whatever book she’s reading. It is time spent in each other’s company as opposed to actively with each other, but it suits them. She goes over after school some days too; the days Derek isn’t doing receptionist work at the local auto-shop. She has her own tea mug, and a stash of Kit-Kats in Derek’s cupboard even though he hates them.

 

Over break Derek comes over to Lydia’s a couple of times because she convinces him she has more paraphernalia to entertain them for the long weeks of break. Derek is nervous around her mother but eventually stops addressing her as ‘ma’am’ and starts calling her Natalie. Derek admits to Lydia quietly one night when he’s sleeping over that it’s the mother thing. Lydia reaches her hand down from her bed and he grasps it from his mattress on the floor. They fall asleep like that and the entire next day Lydia’s back aches from the strange angle. Derek offers to massage it for her and Lydia has to try very hard to keep her thoughts respectful. They switch places and she gives his back a go. Feeling him under her hands is amazing and she locks the sensation away in a little box in her brain for later.

 

When school goes back, Lydia asks Derek if it’d be okay if some of her friends joined them in the library. He surprises her by saying yes straight away.

 

It’s not an easy road to friendship and strangely, Derek seems much older when put in contrast to the rest of her social circle, but three weeks of shared lunches and Derek, unprompted, offers his apartment when someone suggests a board games night.

 

It goes off without a hitch (bar a few people getting the floor number wrong and accidentally buzzing the new-age couple downstairs) which Lydia would like to attribute to her own planning skills, but was equally Derek’s contribution. When she raised her eyes at him after he brought out an itemised shopping list when they were at the grocery store, he shrugged and said simply, “big family gatherings.”

 

Lydia’s stomach did that funny, almost painful contraction thing like it does every time Derek opens up. She smiled as he walked away to scan the chip shelf with focus, and only stopped when an elderly woman remarked ‘he’s a keeper, that one’ as she walked past.

 

Lydia felt her cheeks warm and pushed her hair behind her ears, smiling politely and catching up with Derek.

 

She spends the night at his place for the first time after the party. Derek insists she take the bed and she does so on the condition that he shares it with her. She’s had plenty of practising locking away _those thoughts_ around Derek. It’ll be fine.

 

When she wakes up in the morning, the borrowed sweats and t-shirt from Derek are impossibly twisted around her smaller frame, but unlike in her dreams, Derek himself is not because he’s already up and moving about the kitchen. She’s roused by the scent and sound of frying eggs.

 

She sits up and checks her phone, seeing only one missed message from her mother. ( _Okay. Stay safe. Make sure you thank him. Do you have a key to let yourself in tomorrow morning?)_ She texts back a quick reply ( _Of course. Will do. Yes, I have my key.)_ then joins Derek in the kitchen, making a quick stop to the bathroom first.

 

She’s braiding her hair as she walks in and Derek turns around, offering her a smile and nodding to the kitchen table, where knives and forks are already out.

 

“Perfect timing.” Derek hands her a plate of eggs on toast as she passes. Lydia smiles and thanks him through a yawn.

 

They eat in silence at the kitchen table, a few pens and pads of paper still left out from last night. Lydia picks one up and starts flicking idly through it as she finishes her breakfast.

 

She lays her knife and fork down and slides the paper back across the table as Derek clears away her dishes. Instead of washing them straight away like he normally does, he returns to the table and pulls a chair up beside her at the corner of the table.

 

Lydia stares at Derek and waits for him to start.

 

He looks at her, then away. Repeats that pattern. Then takes a deep breath.

 

“Lydia, I want to say thank you.” Lydia nods slowly and Derek drops his gaze to where his hands are resting palm up on the table. “After the fire, losing everyone- every _thing_ like that, I didn’t have a lot of faith. In anything. I was … I was probably heading toward depression.”

 

Lydia’s pulse picks up, unsure of where Derek is going. He inhales deeply again and looks back up at her, sincerity in his eyes.

 

“Then you talked to me.” He smiles a little and Lydia returns it. “Even though I didn’t really talk back.”

 

“You did.” Lydia can’t help but say.

 

“Yes, but I think that’s exactly what the problem was. I talked _back_ to you. I didn’t talk to you. But you kept talking anyway and I-”

 

Derek cuts himself off and curls his fingers inwards towards his palms. When he doesn’t do anything further, stays staring off, Lydia moves in toward him.

 

“Derek?”

 

“Sorry. I had a whole speech worked out and now it seems pointless.”

 

“That’s okay. Take your time.”

 

Derek looks at Lydia once more and smiles properly, grateful. He unfurls his fingers and reaches across the table to link them through Lydia’s. It’s so reminiscent of that day in the library, when Lydia had proclaimed them friends, that she can’t help the clenching of her chest, nor the soft smile her lips make.

 

“The bottom line is I want to thank you. For being a friend. It’s the best thing to happen to me since the fire.”

 

Lydia feels her throat start to ache, the sign of impending tears. She sucks in a breath and tries to pull her hands away to wipe at her eyes, but Derek’s keeping them tightly in his.

 

“Lydia. I really like you, and value our relationship, and-” Derek swallows and Lydia can feel his hands shaking slightly as they hold her own clammy ones. “You matter to me.”

 

Lydia looks at Derek and she can see that spark in his eyes, that something that was alluring to her years ago when they’d make eye contact briefly in the school corridor. The thing she wanted him to get back. Now here it is, in front of her, gorgeous and glorious and pulling at something deep inside Lydia.

 

“You matter to me too.” Lydia admits in a whisper.

 

Derek nods and smiles and brings their clasped hands up to eye level.

 

He readjusts his grip on her hands and his eyes bore into hers, perhaps waiting to read something in them.

 

“Lydia?” Derek manages to sound both happy and uncertain at the same time. A soft voice paired with his private smile and the protective curl of his hand.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Would you like to go out with me? On a date.”

 

Lydia stops for a moment. Her breathing, her heartbeat, even her brain she thinks. Then it all starts in at double speed.

 

Derek asked her out. Derek asked her out with bed mussed hair in a loose t-shirt and barefooted after making them breakfast. It’s all she can do to remember to breathe and half-berate herself for such a visceral reaction to simply being asked on a date. But she supposes, when you’re this close to another person, and have wanted this exact moment for way too long, it’s maybe an entirely justified reaction.

 

She quiets her brain for a moment so she can focus on Derek and the now nervous set of his mouth and the sparkling, hopeful question still in his eyes.

 

She breathes in deeply, tells herself _control_ , then answers.

 

“I would love to go on a date with you, Derek.”

 

He ducks his head at that and when he lifts it again he’s beaming, that same smile that made Lydia fall for him in the first place times ten. He stands up and pulls Lydia along by their still attached hands so he can wrap her in a hug.

 

She loops her arms around his waist and rests her head against his chest, feeling the excited pumping of his heart right up against her cheek. The tears that were threatening earlier spill over her cheeks and she feels them soaking into Derek’s shirt.

 

Lydia feels warm inside and out, standing there in Derek’s kitchen/living/dining room in his baggy clothes. It’s maybe something to do with Derek’s physical warmth, like hugging a pillow left in a patch of sun, or maybe it’s just that she’s so incredibly happy.

 

She doesn’t want to get ahead of herself but in her bones is a feeling of home and when Derek leans down to kiss away the wetness on her cheeks, she’s almost certain that she and him are going to be amazing. Still friends, the best of friends, but much more too.

**Author's Note:**

> "This'll be short," she thought to herself after writing two pages, "I'm almost done."
> 
> 9 extra pages later and she's reconsidering her earlier statement.
> 
> Come empathise with me on [tumblr](http://whatthehellisahoechlin.tumblr.com).


End file.
